


Seashells and Roses

by Kai_Maciel



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Secrets, Gen, Sibling Bonding, Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:47:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24948652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kai_Maciel/pseuds/Kai_Maciel
Summary: After accidentally communicating with the ghost of his mother, Spain learns he has a brother he never heard about. After revealing the DNA results at an important conference, he doesn't get the result or the tearful reunion he was hoping for.
Relationships: Portugal & Spain (Hetalia)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	1. A Ghost in Spain's Basement

Spain did not know if it had been the herbs, the chalk on the floor, the old books, or the several statues of saints that he accidentally knocked on his basement's floor. Maybe even his extensive swearing after seeing the mess. Whatever the cause, he was staring wide-eyed at an apparition of Iberia.

"Mamá?" he asked, taking her appearance. She looked just like how he remembered her with her long white robes, her bright green eyes, and her long, wavy brown hair. 

Iberia blinked in her ghost form and also stared deep into Spain's face as if she didn't recognize him. It was understandable, she had died when he was still a very small child who didn't even have an established name yet.

"Fill?" she asked in Vulgar Latin, her smile broadening as she realized who she was talking to. "Baby boy, is that you? You're so grown up! Let me look at you!"

"Mamá, how are you here?"

"That does not matter. Look at you, so handsome! And you're alive! You made it out! When are we?"

"Twenty-first century."

"You lived so long! How are you? How much did you grow? What do they call you? Back when you were with me, we didn't have a name for you yet."

"They call me Spain now! But it took a long time to unite all the Kingdoms, that's why I got a name so late."

"They named you after _Hispania_ then," she seemed to ponder, most likely having mixed feelings due to her tumultuous relationship with the Roman Empire where that name had come from. "I see. It's a fitting name, my son."

Happily, Spain ran out and got a map of his territory to show his mother how much he had expanded after she had died. He tried to reach out to her and touch her, but his hand went right through her. Though he wanted nothing more than to hug her, he was glad that he could at least talk to her again.

They had been talking about his past for a while when Iberia asked to see his map again.

"You grew up so much, my love. What about your brother? Is he here with you?"

Spain blinked twice before staring back at his mother with a confused look on his face. "Brother?"

"I forgot to introduce you two back when I was alive and I'm sorry about that, then the wars kept coming and I died before I could tell you. Where is he?"

"Mamá... I don't have any brothers. What are you talking about?"

Iberia remained silent for about ten seconds before she started screaming. "No! No! I left him by the sea! I knew I should have taken him with me, that boy kept running towards the ocean! What if he drowned? What if the moors got him? Or the Vikings? But he's not on the other side... so that means..."

"Mamá, I don't understand what's going on," Spain asked, almost as anxious and his mother in front of him. "Are you telling me I have a brother? You had another kid?"

Before Iberia could answer, her form began to flicker and fade. "Oh, no! It seems my time is out. I have to go now, little one."

"You can't go now, Mamá! I still have so many questions!"

"Please find your brother, son. He's still alive or he would be on this side! I love both of you very, very much!"

"Where did you have him? Mamá!" Spain called out, but it was too late. Once again, he was alone in his messy basement. 

* * *

"Wait a minute, you summoned your mother from the dead?" Romano asked literally after spitting his expresso. 

Spain didn't hear his former underlying's question, he crossed his arms around his chest and remained deep in his thoughts.

"If I have a brother I would have met him by now, shouldn't I? I mean, I would know right away, right? That's how family works. You just know," he said, staring at the blue sky in the Italian café he and Romano liked to meet. "Ah! Having a little brother would be so great! Someone who looks up to you and loves you to death!"

Romano shook his head and ordered a drink. "You have a very romanticized idea of a sibling, you bastard. Real ones are a pain in the ass!"

"What do you mean? Veneziano is like... the cutest, best little brother ever!"

Romano took a sip of his drink before facing the older country. Spain could be older, but he was so fucking naive sometimes he wondered how he was still alive.

"Look, I love my brother, okay! I would kill for him in a heartbeat, but hardly a day goes by when I don't want to kill him too. Or at least bash is stupid, hollow little head with a hammer!"

"How could you say that?" Spain asked, visibly shocked. "He's so sweet!"

"Oh, he's sweet, but he's also a pompous prick who thinks he's better than me," Romano finished his drink. The alcohol was making him emotional and loosed lipped so he had to be careful. "Sibling relationships are complicated. It's not all love and hugs, mostly it's fistfights and screams. There are a lot of complicated feelings when you share the same parent with someone. A lot of resentment. You can ask America or England. Hell, even Russia!"

"Belarus seems to love her brother a lot."

"That's not the sort of ' _love_ ' a sibling should have!" 

Spain put his hands around his expresso cup. "Anyway, I still want to look for him. We're having that conference next week so I should have the DNA results by then. I tested mine with everyone in Europe and the folks from North Africa."

Romano frowned, his head felt lighter with the alcohol. "You don't need a DNA test, everyone knows it's Por--"

"I can show everyone the results at the conference and then we can have a big party to celebrate!"

Romano shrugged. Talking to Spain right now would be useless. Instead, he ordered another drink. 


	2. The DNA Test

Spain was acting weird.

Portugal raised his head above the small mountain of reports in front of him and stared at his neighbor's smiling face. Since they were going to the same conference, they shared the same private plane and, from the moment Spain boarded back in Madrid, he had acted like he was going to the best rave in Europe instead of another boring and soul-sucking meeting where both their economies were going to be meticulously reviewed, followed by a speech from Germany on how they were still not good enough.

"Merda," Portugal cursed under his breath, rubbing his tired eyes. He hated these conferences nowadays. Sure, it was fun seeing everyone again at the same time and they always had drinks afterward but sitting through these meetings, listening on how bad he was no matter how hard he tried each year was enough to destroy his already low self-esteem into smithereens. No amount of alcohol could help, nor the hangover the morning after. 

Usually, Spain was as much on the edge as he was, but today he looked… happy. It was like he was actually looking forward to the conference this year. 

"What's with all the smiling, Antonio?" Portugal asked. "Did something good happen or did you already started drinking?"

"I'm not having any of your shit today! Not even _you_ can ruin what's coming!" Spain answered, leaning back against his seat and effectively shutting down any conversation by putting on his headphones. 

Portugal frowned.

"Fine," he muttered, returning to his reports. "Asshole."

Teasing Spain was part of his routine, it helped him blow out steam whenever he was nervous. Portugal only had one neighbor and he knew Spain ever since they were small children. If he wanted to pick fights and tease someone, it would have to be him. That's what happened when you grew up at the tip of the Iberian Peninsula, away from the other European countries. Spain was the only one he felt comfortable enough to show that petty, childish side of him. 

Portugal didn't act that away with anyone else. Not even England, or France, or even the Netherlands, though he was very fun to annoy. He kept his emotions in check with all the other countries. He didn't need to with Spain.

Which was why Spain brusquely ignoring him both annoyed and hurt him a bit. It made him want to get up and kick him. 

_Stop being immature_ , he berated himself as he focused on another report. 

Hours later, when their plane finally landed, Spain's behavior got increasingly chirpy. As Portugal watched him run after Romano, he decided to shrug it off. It was none of his concern and he had bigger things to worry about.

The conference went on just as usual, which meant that by the end of it many countries were either angry, frustrated, or on the verge of tears. Germany was practically hoarse after so much screaming.

Whatever. It was over. Now they could finally drown their sorrows with food and stiff drinks.

Just as everyone was getting up their chairs, Spain told them to hold on.

"I have something I want to show you guys!" he said as he walked towards the computer and the projector they had previously used to show their reports.

"What is he doing?" England asked before turning to Portugal. "Do you know what’s going on?"

Portugal shrugged. "No idea. He's been acting excited all day."

"If it's photos of his striptease again I don't want to watch!" the blond muttered.

"Ah, fuck," they heard Romano exclaim. "He's really going through with this."

Portugal looked back at the younger nation and he quickly looked away, looking both angry and flustered.

_What was that about?_

"Sorry for taking your time, but I have big news!" Spain said as he finished login into his email account, which they could all see projected in front of them with an unopen email. "After I accidentally summoned my mother from the dead--"

"You did what now?!" Germany yelled, but Spain went on.

"-- She revealed to me that I have a brother that I never heard about!"

The revelation left the room almost speechless. Portugal blinked, wondering who Spain's brother could possibly be. Andorra? One of the North African countries? He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't notice how almost every European country in the room was glancing at him with curiosity and discomfort. 

"I've sent a sample of my DNA to compare with the rest of you guys and I have the answer right here!" Spain went on, pointing excitedly at the projected email. "I waited until now because I want to find out along with you guys!"

Germany moved closer. "Spain... maybe you should do this privately."

"No, Germany! I wanna know who Spain's brother is!" Italy exclaimed, completely missing the angry glares from both Germany and Romano. 

"Then, it's time for the truth!" the Iberian said, finally opening the email.

The projector exposed Spain's email to all of them to see. Amid the text and icons, huge, red letters revealed who Spain's sibling was between different 44 countries.

PORTUGAL - 96% MATCH 

"WHAT?! NO!" Spain yelled out, his green eyes glued to the screen.

"You really didn't need a DNA test, idiot. It was obvious," Romano said, while Spain frantically checked the email again. 

Portugal stood in his place, his eyes also glued to the screen. Suddenly, his legs felt like rubber, and the ground beneath him unstable. He could barely hear the other countries talking, but it got muffled by the sound of his head pounding. 

An image popped into his head, it made his chest hurt. 

_A woman, dressed in white, her curly brown hair waving in the wind as she kneeled._

_A little boy holding red roses._

_A necklace made of seashells..._

"No! No! No! That can't be right!" Spain cried out. "It must be a mistake! The samples must have gotten mixed up!"

"They haven't, you imbecile! Everyone in Europe guessed you two were brothers since the Twelve century!" England exclaimed.

"It was quite obvious, mon ami," France added.

"Don't say that! It's not true! I don't want it to be _him!"_

The room was too hot, the air too thick. Portugal's suit felt uncomfortable and his tie too tight around his neck.

_I can't stay here._

Quickly, he grabbed his suitcase and walked out of the conference room. He wasn't thinking, all he cared about was going as far away from that room as possible. He barely noticed how he got into the street and got himself a cab. After removing his coat and his tie, he buried his face in his hands.

"Where to?" the cab driver asked.

Portugal took a deep breath and answered. "The train station."

Before he could rationalize what he was about to do, he called the hotel where was staying to cancel his reservation and the plane to inform them he would be returning home earlier by train. After that was done, he turned his phone off and leaned against the window, his eyes firmly shut. 


End file.
